


Le Désir Du Cœur

by Eggsyobsessed



Series: Eggsyobsessed's Christmas Giveaway [4]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Banter, Cheeky Eggsy Unwin, Flirting, Harry Hart is a Little Shit, Inspired By: Magic Mike, Kinda, Kingsman is a Tailor Shop, Kissing, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit (Kingsman), Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28120170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/pseuds/Eggsyobsessed
Summary: Every year Harry takes the staff at his tailor shop, Kingsman, out for a Christmas appreciation dinner. This year Merlin has another idea in mind and has booked them a table, or two, at London's most elite gentlemen's club. Harry is appalled, Merlin thinks it'll be good for the lads, and neither can agree on anything.All Harry wants is a nice, elegant dinner at Savoy with his staff.What he gets is a surprise evening alone, with Merlin, as a Christmas gift and a charming, cheeky boy in white sequin pants.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Series: Eggsyobsessed's Christmas Giveaway [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053317
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	Le Désir Du Cœur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FearlessJones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearlessJones/gifts).



> One, excuse the title if it is wrong (used google translator and should read: The Heart's Desire, in french.)  
> Two, this turned out much different than my original plan. I was going to go for cute, Christmas fluff...instead you have naughty Christmas sex. 
> 
> For FearlessJones, who originally asked for other things...then I told her hartwin Christmas fluff, and went right back to smut. Soooooooo, hope you like it!

“Ye don’t wear a bloody suit to these sort of things, Harry.” Merlin huffed, his friend of nearly three decades and business partner. The brains of the operation, as their workers so lovingly pointed out, thinking Harry didn’t know, or perhaps wouldn’t hear the gossip around a rather small and intimate tailor shop.

He hired a bunch of squawking birds, for that matter. Good workers, they were, but damn if Harry hadn’t heard every single word ever spoken through Kingsman. They were a good bunch, he supposed, which was exactly the reason for this shit show of a ‘Christmas Party’ Merlin pulled together.

“I SHOULD be wearing a bloody suit! For fucks sake! It’s to be the shop's annual Christmas party! Not a bloody fucking cock fest!”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “It isn’t a cock fest, Harry. I have better taste than that.” Harry scoffed; taste! As if bringing their entire staff to an elite, high-end gentlemen's club, where men and women alike were paid handsomely to strip for their paying customers, was in good taste. Harry thought not! “Do shut up, get a coat and let's be on, aye? The cab is waiting.”

Harry grumbled, but complied, and followed out where two cabs lined the curb outside the shop. Everything was locked, ready to go, with only their four tailors to join. The ride wasn’t long, but felt like a lifetime to Harry. This wasn’t the way to go about the company's appreciation of their staff for the holidays! This was a bachelor party’s dream! He sent himself an email on the ride, a reminder to add an extra thousand pounds into each employee's bonus; surely everyone would be just as appalled as he to find where ‘the head of the operation’ intended to throw a party.

“You could put that bloody thing down for five seconds.” Merlin tapped the screen, fudging part of Harry’s email. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“I am aware of the month, date and time, Merlin. But this is in no way Christmas. You’ve scheduled us for a bloody brothel.”

Merlin snorted. “It is hardly a brothel.” He settled into his seat, an air of pleasure and self-righteousness swirled around him. The man was so sure of himself, like this was the best damn gift he could give the staff! Harry wanted to smack that cocky smirk off his face, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it was the Holidays. “Ah. We’re here.” He thanked the driver, waited for Harry to slip out, and headed for the front.

They passed a line of men, eager ones dressed in clothes more expensive than Harry’s shoes, and went straight for the bouncer.

“McGuire, please.” They were let past, several groans of annoyance followed shortly, and brought to a discreet table close to a stage.

It was dimly lit with blue and silver accents, Harry had to admit it looked nice, charming even, and offered a cool, relaxing atmosphere. Elegant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each table had a tray of three candles and centerpieces so expensive, he was certain Savoy couldn’t afford them. It took him a moment to figure out they’d arrived alone, without the four other men, and were one of the first people to be seated.

“Where is everyone else?” Harry slipped out of his coat, handed it to a rather handsome, yet skimpily dressed, man with a Santa hat to go with his tight, sparkly red spandex pants. “What in the--”

“Champagne, sirs?”

“Yes, please.” Merlin answered before Harry could finish that sentence. “And the lads were sent to dinner, paid by the company, as a thank you for their hard work.” Merlin smiled at the boy who returned with two flutes of bubbly.

Harry frowned. “Then what in the hell is this?!” He hissed, ignoring the champagne altogether.

Merlin sipped from a glass, eased back in his chair with a Cheshire cat's grin, and said, “Ye need to unwind, Harry, and maybe grope a lad or two.” He chortled to himself. "Consider it a Christmas gift." 

Before Harry blew his shit, the room quickly filled with more men and several other barely dressed boys to offer drinks, and assorted finger foods. The desire to reach across the table, grab Merlin by the neck, and strangle the life out of him coursed through his veins like adrenaline during a fight. He was enraged enough, Harry barely noticed the start of what was to be the performance. A handsome man in all white welcomed everyone to his fine establishment, his American accent thick and draped with a southern drawl. It bothered him enough Harry ignored the name, not having cared a bit, and halfway through his spiel, Harry flagged one of the wait staff for a martini with the instruction to keep them coming; he’d need to be drunk for this.

He had two gone once the first performer started, a young, thin lad with skin as dark as the richest dark chocolate Harry had ever seen. Despite his reservations to the whole ordeal, the boy could dance and he was rather nice to look at. Each number took about five minutes a piece, every man dressed in some sort of Christmas themed undergarment, some even had Santa hats, elf ears and one with a star atop salt and pepper hair that Harry found unattractive, but Merlin perked a bit through his dance.

Merlin was too busy enjoying himself to keep track of Harry’s alcohol intake, which resulted in six martinis by the time HE came on stage.

Harry sat straighter, an intense gaze on the young man who shimmied out, hips gyrated in a way that sent blood straight to his groin. Hair was hidden beneath a unique hat, much different from the ones worn by other dancers, this was white with wings on either side. Identical to his white, winged trainers and sparkly, snow-like briefs that hugged an impressively sized arse and accentuated God like thighs.

Ginuwine’s Pony played in the background, as he air humped the stage, tossing articles of clothing Harry had no idea he wore, while he swiveled and swerved hips like he was born to do it. Just as Harry thought it couldn’t get any better, his dick any harder, he was hit in the face with his snapback, drawing his attention toward the cheeky grin aimed his way with a saucy wink to boot. His reactions were slow, whether from alcohol or the drunken stooper he was in from that dance performance, slow enough he hadn’t any time to collect the tossed article or realize the music changed to something more fun, upbeat, when he was attacked.

Suddenly he had a lapful of the boy, his broad, toned chest just inches from his face as he ground down into Harry’s lap.

Merlin’s bark of laughter cut through the music, ringing in his ears and thumping of his heart, averting Harry’s attention from this creature before him to Merlin. Who now had a lapful of an older, yet no less attractive, man who bestowed the same treatment. Harry could almost recognize the stranger by his salt and pepper hair, but without the star or face for confirmation, he couldn't be sure. 

But he was rather distracted by the man on him, around him, a scent so rich and heady, it made his head spin. “Fuck,” Harry whispered. He really wanted to fuck him, Harry thought to himself.

“Yeah? Fancy yourself a bit of rough, yeah?” Apparently he HAD said that out loud. “Ain’t allowed to fuck the customer.” Was whispered into his ear, followed by a sharp bite against his earlobe.

“Not a customer,” Harry weakly responded, ready and willing to do anything this young man wished right in that moment.

His cheeks creased with a sly grin, sea green eyes bright with mischief and promise of an unspoken request Harry could see mirrored in iris’s.

But the moment was gone just as fast as it was started, leaving Harry with a hard, searing kiss he felt in his toes.

It wasn’t until Merlin chuckled, “Nice hat.” Did he realize it’d been plonked on his head, thoroughly cocking up his hair, but ask Harry if he gave a fuck!

By the time it was done, Harry had a mission. He needed to find that young man, return his snapback, and quite possibly snog the life out of him in the back. None of which he could do sober, being a conservative man who chose a good fuck once every two years with a man he met in Uni. George offered great sex, enough Harry hadn’t needed or wanted more, but that night he craved more.

“Keeping it?” Merlin asked as he slipped into his jacket, and waited for Harry to do the same.

“No.” Harry’s thumb brushed across white sequin. “I’m going to wait around, see if I can’t return it.”

Merlin’s smirk said it all, but he didn’t comment anything further, gave Harry a shoulder pat and left.

It felt like years by the time he got up, finally able to stand long enough the room didn’t spin, and wandered around back where that cheeky bugger appeared.

“This belongs to you.” He offered, extending the item out. “Kept it safe.”

“Thanks.” A wide grin spread across soft, kissable lips. “Eggsy.”

“I’m sorry?”

Eggsy laughed. “My name is Eggsy.”

Harry shook his head. “Oh, yes. Well...good dancing, Eggsy.” What the fuck, Hart! Get it together! “Harry.” His brain finally kicked in for an introduction and shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, then. I’ll be going.” Harry went to turn away and was stopped short by a hand in his.

“I saw you watching me,” Eggsy murmured.

Harry snorted. “Yes, well...isn’t that the point of what you do?” He couldn’t figure out the look in his eyes. It was deeper, an unknown emotion to the change in atmosphere; Harry was too drunk to figure it out.

“It is, but you were different.”

He shrugged, unaffected by the weight under Eggsy's meaning. “You were magnificent.” Something shifted and suddenly Harry was pinned against a table, back arched as their lips locked, sucking the air from one another. Harry barely had enough time to whisper, “Come home with me,” before Eggsy devoured him again. And only separated long enough to get a cab, headed straight for his quaint home located at The Mews, and right into his front door.

It was a short trip to the sofa, where he was disrobed and straddled by a just as naked Eggsy with an impressively sized dick to go with his tight muscles. He was a vision Harry had little time to appreciate, but saved the brief image for his spank bank, sure to never see the boy again.

Eggsy slid down over Harry's lubed, ready cock, eager to fuck himself right on his dick and do the work of stroking himself, too. Harry was debilitated enough from alcohol, completely bare to this stranger, he had little energy to do more but moan out a name he barely knew and shout like his arse was on fire. 

When he came to the next morning, barely any recollection of the night, with the worst hangover he’d ever had and a sticky chest, Harry was right; he hadn't a clue what happened. He thought himself sensible enough to realize what was on his chest, but figured he was horny and hand a good wank before he passed out on the sofa. Since it seemed everything was in order. There was little in the way out of place, his flat just as pristine as he left it with his clothing strewn down the hall and into the sitting room. Harry collected everything, cleaned himself up, and found himself some pants and shoved a dressing gown on, thankful he was off that day.

Halfway through his morning coffee, which turned into three cups, Harry found a sparkly pair of white sequin pants draped over his cream and floral wingback chair. He collected them just as the doorbell rang, and with them in hand answered to find a rather pleased Merlin.

“Morning.” Harry murmured, turned away, and plopped onto his sofa.

“Ye are looking chipper!” Merlin answered brightly, in that annoying ‘I know you have a hangover and I’m going to be a shit’ way. “Happy Christmas!" He called on his way to the kitchen. "Oh!” He laughed beside Harry, a mug of coffee in his hand, and gestured to the briefs. “You had a guest, eh?”

Visions of a hot, pale colored man with honey-brown hair and sea green eyes, flashed through his mind. The weight of Eggsy in his lap lingered, the sting of teeth against his collarbone and raw ache of his cock reminded him of the best night he’d ever had. Suddenly the milky substance he washed off made sense, and the entire ordeal came crashing into his mind harder than the headache that pounded behind his eyes. 

“Where was it we went again?” Harry wondered, bypassing Merlin’s inquiry altogether.

“Statesman.” Harry frowned, he could have sworn he’d remember that. “Why?”

“It seems I have a pair of briefs to return.”

All Merlin did was raise a brow, pat his thigh, and laughed, "Happy Christmas, Harry." 

Yes, Happy Christmas, indeed. 


End file.
